


Follow the Leader

by Emachinescat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU Episode Tag, Bromance, Drama, Episode: s03e01 The Tears of Uther Pendragon (Part I), Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-04
Updated: 2011-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1232761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin follows Morgana to her meeting with Morgause in 3x1, he doesn't know that he, too, is being followed. Arthur is there to witness everything that transpires. Will he be able to rescue Merlin and will he even want to when he finds out the truth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own, for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Arthur had been on his way back to his own chambers from dealing with matters of the court in the stead of his ill father when he spotted Merlin skirting around a corner. At first, Arthur was content to leave him be – Merlin was always sneaking around, doing things he wasn't supposed to be, following Arthur when he was supposed to stay behind. This wasn't necessarily unlike him. But something compelled him to find out more.

Merlin was jogging quickly, more quietly than Arthur had ever seen him move. His eyes seemed to be focused on something ahead, almost as if he was following something… or someone. Increasingly irritated at the insufferable idiot, Arthur made a spur of the moment decision. He didn't know what Merlin was up to, but he intended to find out. Goodness knows these were dangerous times and it would be just like Merlin to run off and get himself into some kind of trouble.

Although Merlin much more light on his feet than his surprised master was used to, Arthur crept quieter still. After years of hunting, stalking prey, and sneaking up on enemies, Arthur was a master of stealth. Although the prince preferred to be moving and in action, he could crouch still, unseen, unheard, in the shadows for minutes, maybe even hours. It was something he had to be able to do as a hunter and a warrior. Sometimes strategy and stealth was a more valuable asset than brute strength and attack. Now, it seemed, was one of those moments.

Merlin had no idea the prince was following him.

Arthur grew increasingly curious and confused as he trailed Merlin through the town and out the gates of Camelot toward the Darkling Woods. His brow creased fractionally as he noted that Merlin hadn't looked back even once. He was very intent on something ahead of him and once again Arthur was struck with the suspicion that perhaps Merlin wasn't just taking a midnight stroll. Maybe _he_ didn't even have any idea of where he was going. Could it be that Merlin, too, was following someone into the midst of the dangerous Darkling Woods in the middle of the night?

His answer was confirmed moments later when Merlin stopped, ducked down behind a tree, and tried to steady his breathing. He was still quite far off from the prince but Arthur could see that something had spooked the servant. Creeping forward silently, taking great care not to step on any twigs or branches or even a fallen leaf, Arthur drew closer, still unseen by Merlin – and the two people currently meeting in the small clearing.

Arthur's jaw dropped as he recognized the two women. At the top of a small incline, two well-muscled, cloaked men stood at attention. Arthur could barely see them because of their dark cloaks but the soft moonlight filtering eerily through the canopy of trees offered a dim view of all that was going on. Arthur made sure he was completely concealed in a cluster of trees, both from Merlin and the people in the clearing. He couldn't believe his eyes.

Morgana was talking to the woman who had tried to bring about the end of Camelot twice. Arthur tried to clear his head but more questions continued to assault him. What was this? He a hot pressure at the back of his eyes and throat as he continued to listen to the same conversation he knew his servant was eavesdropping on at the same time.

"Your visit was successful?" Morgana asked, smiling warmly at Morgause. Arthur felt his gut twist unpleasantly. He knew that Morgause had taken Morgana away for a year – what all had the witch done to corrupt the girl that had become like a sister to him? A nearly overwhelming bout of anger overcame him and it took all his self-preservation not to jump out and attack Morgause then and there. He held his ground, however, and rolled his eyes as Merlin moved closer, knowing that if the idiot got caught he would probably be in a world of trouble. He  _really_  needed to stay where he was. Cursing mentally, Arthur returned to the situation at hand, aghast at what he was hearing.

"Cenred's army ride for Camelot at my command." Fear began twisting its way through Arthur's heart. What was Morgana doing? How could she betray Camelot like this? Surely…  _surely_  there was an explanation… maybe she was enchanted by Morgause?

"There is nothing you cannot do."

Morgause smiled. "It is you who gives me strength, sister."

Arthur's world stopped spinning for a few seconds as he processed this new information.  _Sister?_ Even as he watched the scene unfolding before him, his mind began to piece together parts of the puzzle as the answer to his questions became clear. Morgana had been the only one unaffected by Morgause's spell a year ago. Morgause had called off the attack when Morgana had been injured, real worry and pain in her eyes as she held Morgana in her arms. The unfeigned affection and admiration gleaming for the blonde woman in Morgana's eyes brought all these observations into perspective. Morgause had called Morgana "sister" because they  _were_  sisters. Morgana wasn't under a spell. She was doing this of her own free will.

The thought sickened him.

"How goes the battle for Uther's mind?" Morgana had been a part of that too? Arthur nearly blew his cover then and there. He heard a leaf rustle and realized Merlin was shifting again. He'd almost forgotten the servant was there, too, even though it was Merlin he had followed here.

Morgana smirked, something Arthur suddenly realized she'd been doing quite a bit of lately, but he'd simply assumed she was very happy to be home. What a fool he had been! "When Cenred's army marches on Camelot, they will find a kingdom without a leader."

 _Why, Morgana? How could you do this? She may be of the same blood but she is not your family, not who you have grown up with, the one who has cared for you all your life! How could you?_ Tears were pricking the prince's eyes and as ashamed of them as he was, he couldn't risk moving to wipe them away. This was madness! His heart thumped as he processed the rest of what he had heard. He needed to get back to Camelot – he had to warn knights, everyone, about the impending attack. He would  _have_  to be the leader!

But he wasn't going to leave Merlin hear alone – bloody idiot would probably trip over a worm and expose himself – and he might get caught if he moved at all. He forced himself to stay still. The first chance he got, he would grab his servant and get the hell out of here. They – well,  _he_ , Merlin just usually sprawled on the ground and did nothing in a battle so he didn't count – would fight their way out if they had to, but Arthur didn't fancy that prospect. Not only did he not want to face Morgana right now, but Morgause was a powerful sorceress and those two goons with her looked fierce. Although he was itching for action, the strategic part of him knew that he needed to stay put for now.

Arthur winced as Merlin moved again, moving closer and crouching behind a boulder. Didn't that nitwit understand that in order to spy on someone, you needed to be  _still_  and  _quiet_? Morgause grinned at her ally and Arthur fought the urge to be ill. What on earth had prompted Morgana to turn on her friends, family, and kingdom – sister or no sister? It just didn't make sense! The witch was speaking again. "Finally, we are ready."

Morgana took a pace away, her voice almost giddy. "Not quite." Merlin barely managed to duck behind the rock as she turned around. Arthur wanted to smack the moron. The next words out of the woman's mouth made Arthur's own mouth go dry and his heart beat faster. He kept his breathing slow and shallow as fear for his servant crept over him. " _Merlin_ ," she spat the name like poison, "suspects me."  _No, no, no… Merlin stay where you are, don't make a sound…_

Morgause seemed mildly concerned. "Has he told Arthur?" Arthur almost smirked.  _Obviously not,_ he thought sarcastically,  _although he's going to get an earful about coming straight to me about these things when all this is over…_  In honesty, though, Arthur knew exactly why Merlin hadn't come to him with his suspicions. Morgana was his friend, the king's ward, and Merlin was just a servant. How would Arthur have reacted if Merlin had told him without any proof? The prince honestly didn't know but he was sure he would  _not_  have been happy.

"Not yet, but he will."

"We must stop him." Arthur fumed.  _Not if_ I  _have anything to say about it…_

Morgana's voice was more sinister and mocking than Arthur had ever heard it. He felt his stomach clench in rage and worry as the stench of her betrayal burned his senses. "That will not be difficult."

"Why?"

Morgana's next words sent chills throughout the prince's body. "Because he's already  _here_."

 _No, no, no –_ damn it _, Merlin, how do you get yourself into these situations?_  He didn't know what to do, other than stay still and hidden, keep an eye on the situation in case it got out of hand, and try to find a way to help the servant. He wouldn't let them hurt Merlin, but it was best if he remained out of sight for now – if they discovered him here and Morgause used her powers to overcome him, the prince, the heir to the throne of Camelot… well, considering their plans, he didn't think that would bode well for his kingdom. For now he would wait and watch.

He was slightly surprised as the servant bravely popped into view. His face was unreadable although a bit of fear and… something else flickered rapidly in his eyes. Arthur watched the drama unfold with bated breath, wanting to intervene but knowing it was in the best interest of Camelot and ultimately themselves if he stayed out of it for now.

He wouldn't reveal himself until it was either necessary (although he sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that point) or Morgause and Morgana were either distracted or gone. He was  _not_  going to let them take Merlin away or hurt him, however. But… if it came to a choice between Merlin's life and Camelot? He knew the decision he'd have to make, but he didn't have to like it. He could only hope that staying hidden would remain an option so that he would never have to make that kind of choice.

Morgana smirked again. "Did you really think I was that stupid, Merlin?" Arthur wanted to shake her – Merlin was her  _friend_! Arthur was, Gwen was, Gaius and Uther were… at least they  _had been_. Now it looked like Morgana had found some  _new_  friends. And these new friends apparently didn't know how to play nicely.

Merlin didn't answer. Instead he stood there, stock-still, for several seconds, eyes darting around before he took off at a run. Arthur watched, hoping and praying he'd get away. They obviously had no idea that Arthur was here, if Merlin escaped then Arthur could follow quietly, get the idiot back to Camelot, where they would warn the knights that an army was headed for Camelot. As Merlin darted off through the trees, Arthur couldn't help but let a small ray of hope flash through him. Maybe they would get out of this after all.

That's when everything went wrong.

The two muscular cronies had given chase to the servant as soon as he'd tried to run. Merlin had almost gotten clear of them – or so he probably thought – but what he hadn't realized was that the men had tricked him, surrounded him. Trapped him. Arthur winced as one of the men's fists lashed out and caught Merlin across the jaw, knocking him unconscious. Arthur literally had to force himself not to move from where he was crouching – he wasn't just going to sit by and let them hurt his fr—servant.

Merlin slumped forward into the man's arms and together the two goons carried him back to the clearing. The sky was lightening marginally and Arthur could see a bit better than he had been able to before. His heart pumped blood furiously and he realized that his fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands. He kept watching, something telling him not to intervene – at least not when Morgause was here. As much as he loathed to admit it, she had powerful magic. He could take her, probably, but maybe not – and he couldn't risk it. Not yet. Merlin was relatively unharmed.

He couldn't help but let out a small smirk. They hadn't even considered that someone else might be watching them as well. Quietly, Arthur lowered himself to the ground and huddled in the small alcove of trees he was concealed in and watched as the men took a long chain and wound it around Merlin, securing his arms to his sides and his legs tightly together. Arthur gritted his teeth at the sight of his servant chained up, unconscious, in a heap on the ground.

This wasn't right. This was so  _wrong._

His eyes scanned the clearing for any sign of what the witch and Morgana might be up to, hoping they would leave, if only for a moment, so Arthur could grab Merlin and run. About fifteen minutes passed before Morgause muttered something unintelligible to her sister and Morgana nodded reluctantly. Arthur's anger and sadness reached another crescendo at the reminder of her betrayal as she glared venomously down at the bound Merlin before hugging Morgause and disappearing into the woods, presumably back to Camelot.

Arthur needed to get back. He needed to warn them. But he was stuck here, stuck because of his idiotic manservant. The idiotic manservant that was at the mercy of a witch. From what they had said earlier, Cenred's army was still quite a distance away. Arthur would be back in plenty of time. He couldn't jeopardize leaving just yet, though. Especially not with Morgause eyeing Merlin like that, with the predatory gleam in her brown eyes. He could almost  _feel_  the raw power rolling off of her in waves.

Morgause sat across the clearing, eyes never leaving Merlin's still, restrained form. The men stood dutifully at either side of him, as if itching for him to wake up so they could go about their next orders. Until Merlin came to, it seemed that every single one of them – Morgause and her minions and the silent prince hidden among the trees – could only do one thing.

Wait.


	2. The Second Revelation

It was early morning when Merlin finally stirred.

Arthur was exhausted. He had been awake seeing to his father and other matters until late the night before, and then after following Merlin here and witnessing all that had transpired, he had refused to go to sleep. This was for several reasons – one, because he couldn't afford to take his eyes off his servant and his captors for any length of time. He was ready to intervene and help Merlin if the need arose and he wasn't going to risk his servant getting hurt or worse because he fell asleep and wasn't able to protect him. Two, if he slept, his guard went down and that was something he could _not_ afford. His breathing would undoubtedly get steadier and heavier – although Merlin was wrong; Arthur  _didn't_  snore! – and he wouldn't know if someone snuck up on him. He couldn't get himself caught if he had any choice in the matter. Three, he didn't think he'd be able to sleep if he tried.

He couldn't help but think about Morgana. How could she have done this to him, to Uther, to Camelot? He just couldn't understand, could barely comprehend it. Morgana had always been strong-willed but this was crossing the line. She had allied herself with Camelot's enemies and was plotting Camelot's demise.  _And_  she had watched as Morgause's men had  _attacked_  Merlin and restrained him, all with that horrible smirk on her face. By the time Morgana had left, Arthur couldn't help but think, "Alright, Morgana, we get it – you're no longer good. Will you  _please_  stop smirking? It's  _not_ very impressive." Of course, if he said it aloud, he would have been discovered and that, as he had previously decided, would not bode well for him, for Merlin,  _or_  for Camelot. Morgana's betrayal had cut him to the core. He had no idea what he was going to do about her yet and although he had spent the rest of the night thinking about it, he had come up with nothing else.

After the first rays of sun began to shine and Arthur's patience at its end, Merlin began to move – well, try to, anyway – and his eyes opened a crack. He gave a little moan and sucked in a deep breath, probably trying to bring the world back in focus. Arthur could sympathize – he had been knocked out plenty of times before and he knew the after-effects were  _not_  fun. If Arthur's past experience was anything to go by, Merlin's head was probably pounding, his bruised jaw throbbing, and his mouth more than likely felt dry and swollen. He was probably feeling a bit sick in his stomach, too, although that symptom came more often than not with blows to the head, not the jaw. Arthur mentally chuckled – he had apparently become quite the expert on the side effects of getting knocked unconscious and he wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing.

Almost as soon as Merlin's eyes opened – and Arthur, even from where he crouched, hidden, could see the confusion in them as he woke up chained in the middle of the forest – Morgause's two goons were flanking the servant, hauling him to his feet and dragging him across the clearing before shoving him on his knees across from the blonde witch who was dressed in chainmail. She eyed Merlin predatorily, brown eyes gleaming with malice and curiosity alike.

Merlin, for his part, wasn't being nearly the wimp that Arthur had expected. Arthur wasn't entirely sure how he had anticipated Merlin would respond to this kind of situation, though. Maybe some pleading. An attempt to be brave that failed miserably. Something like that. But no.

Merlin  _was_  scared, that much was obvious. He shifted slightly as he glanced around him, eyes darting about frantically, his breathing heavy and slightly panicked. Every time he so much as shifted a finger, the chains around him clinked. Arthur still couldn't get used to the site of  _Merlin_ bound in chains, even after seeing him that way for hours. Even though he was frightened, however, Merlin did his best no to show it. He didn't beg or plead, he didn't even speak. He just averted his eyes from Morgause's intense stare (something Arthur found he couldn't blame him for… those eyes of hers were so… well, intense) and kept quiet. Probably the wisest thing to do in his situation.

After regarding her prisoner for a few moments, Arthur watched as Morgause took a step closer and began to speak. "You intrigue me, Merlin," she admitted. Arthur latched onto every word, eyes darting between the two of them. He was looking for any chance of escape or rescue. So far there was none so he had to be content with playing the role of the secret audience – for now. Merlin didn't respond to Morgause's statement but glanced around again, eyes wide. "Why does a lowly servant continue to risk everything for Arthur and for Camelot?"

Arthur started. If he was honest with himself, he was wondering that, too. Merlin was beyond loyal – insanely loyal – and Arthur couldn't figure it out. He had drunk poisoned wine for him, followed Arthur into the Labyrinth of Gedref even though Arthur had said not to because it was dangerous, and had even gone with him to fight a dragon. Every so often, Arthur would find himself wondering what inspired Merlin's loyalty. He found himself leaning forward a bit in anticipation, wanting to hear the answer to this question.

Merlin, it seemed, had other ideas, however. He didn't answer the question but instead remained quiet. Arthur hoped that Morgause wasn't too terribly interested in learning the answer, though, because Arthur was  _not_ going to be happy or stand for it if she decided to use force – torture or otherwise – to glean any kind of response from the servant. Thankfully, though, her calm exterior didn't waver and she simply regarded the idiot for a few moments before speaking again in that same measured tone. "You know the answer but you're not telling me. Why?"

Again there was silence. Arthur found himself getting a little annoyed at Merlin. It wasn't as if Morgause was asking him questions that would threaten Arthur or Camelot's well being, after all. She just wanted to know what drove Merlin. Arthur also wanted to know. He was also curious because he didn't see how Morgause could have known about the times Merlin had helped Arthur… unless Morgana had told her. A bitter taste came to his mouth at the thought of his father's wayward ward. Still, though, it seemed like Morgause knew something else, something that Arthur didn't know. He thought back to the time when Morgana had been taken by Morgause. Merlin had been alone in the room with the two of them at the time. Maybe he had done something then, something that had helped save Camelot?

He resolved that if Merlin didn't decide to speak up and they ever got out of this, the servant was going to undergo another interrogation, and this time, Arthur wouldn't take silence for an answer. He didn't think that would be much of a problem, though, getting Merlin to talk to him, because shutting up wasn't something Merlin was capable of doing when he was with Arthur. Another one of Merlin's infuriating qualities.

Morgause was speaking again and Arthur tensed as he saw that she was circling around Merlin slowly as she talked, like vulture scoping out its next meal. "Come on. Time and again you have put your life on the line. There must be a reason." She ended her speech by crouching down on the other side of Merlin. Arthur watched on closely as Merlin stared straight ahead and finally spoke. His words surprised Arthur.

"I believe in a fair and just land."

Arthur didn't know what he had been expecting, but it hadn't been this. Maybe, "Because the prat can't take care of himself," or maybe even, "Because that's what I'm supposed to do." But not something so confident and heartfelt.

Morgause didn't seem satisfied with Merlin's answer. "And you think Arthur will give you that?"

Arthur barely had time to comprehend the question when Merlin fired off his answer, an answer that took Arthur by surprise and made him look at the servant in a whole new light. "I know it." There was no doubt, no hesitation, no sarcasm. Arthur was struck by the sheer loyalty and confidence Merlin had in him. He wondered if Merlin would have responded the same if he knew Arthur was here watching. Maybe, he decided, but the meaning and emotion behind the words would have been just as real. He could tell by the determined look in his eye and the way Merlin seemed to gain hope from those three simple words that Merlin believed it with all his being. Believed in  _Arthur_. Why?

Morgause rose and once again Arthur tensed for action but he didn't need to. She was simply getting up to stand in front of Merlin again. "And then what, Merlin? Do you think you'll be recognized? All this so that one day you can be a serving boy to the king?"

Arthur mentally scoffed at her suggestion. He knew Merlin well enough to realize that the idea of Merlin's loyalty being attributed for want of recognition was preposterous. Merlin tended to be the kind of person that liked to hang in the background but still managed to draw attention to himself nonetheless. And Arthur had also seen the respect for Arthur in his servant's eyes and he knew that if Merlin just wanted to become known, he wouldn't have had that look in his eyes. He wouldn't have defended Arthur and the kingdom he would one day rule so fiercely. And he wouldn't have risked his life for Arthur's.

Merlin became quiet once again. Arthur was leaning forward, almost as if hoping that by moving closer he would catch Merlin's answer on the ghost of a breeze even if the servant wasn't talking. All Arthur heard, however, was the low clink of chains as Merlin shifted again. Arthur winced inwardly – that couldn't have been a comfortable position. Merlin's knees had to have been aching by now and his arms as well from being tied up for so long.

"No," Morgause continued after a few moments of silence. "There's something more. Something you're not telling me, isn't there?"

Merlin met Morgause's eyes for the first time and Arthur, even hidden in the woods, could see the intensity of that gaze. His voice was calm when he spoke but Arthur could tell that he was frightened. "I told you."

Morgause looked back at the servant and commented ominously. "Well, you can take your secret to your grave." Arthur felt his muscles bunch up, ready for action, at Morgause's threat. He almost sprang right out of the trees when words of magic flew from her lips but he relaxed when he saw that she had just caused the chains binding Merlin to glow for a moment, tighten, and then release their pressure. Merlin grunted and his breathing quickened as he stared up fearfully at his captor.

She looked down at Merlin and spoke harshly. "You chose to poison one of my own. You may regret that." Arthur's mind was buzzing. Merlin, poisoning someone? That was ridiculous; he couldn't imagine the mild servant trying to do anyone harm. His mind was reeling with questions and desperately trying and failing to come up with answers. He breathed a silent sigh of relief as Morgause and her men turned and stalked out of the clearing, leaving Merlin there alone. Well, not alone, but  _they_ thought he was alone and that was what mattered.

Arthur resolved to stay hidden for at least another ten minutes, however, because he had to be sure that Morgause and her lackeys really were gone and not hanging around or trying to draw any hidden rescuer out of hiding. He was almost positive that his presence was still a secret, though, and he wanted to keep it that way.

After Morgause had walked away, Arthur studied Merlin's face and noticed that real fear had taken over now that Morgause was gone. He struggled vainly against the chains and Arthur thought he might have seen a glimmer of wetness in Merlin's eyes.

What happened next was so bizarre, so unexpected and frightening that Arthur felt his entire world be thrown violently out of balance. Merlin looked around warily, checking for anyone else hiding out, and apparently didn't notice Arthur hidden away in the trees. He then looked down at the chains binding him and spoke a couple of nonsense words. At first Arthur wondered if Merlin had finally cracked from the stress of it all. But then the servant's eyes glowed gold and although the chains did nothing but tighten and relax again, the damage had been done.

Arthur stared straight ahead but didn't really see.

Merlin had magic.


	3. The Third Revelation

Arthur's whole world was buzzing, tilting precariously as he struggled to understand what had just happened, to justify it, to reason it away – and failed miserably. His heart pounded as Merlin's – the sorcerer's – alien words reverberated through his aching head, accompanied by the flash of light. Or _was_ he hearing echoes of Merlin's treachery in his mind? He realized after a second or two that it wasn't just in his head; Merlin was continuing to say hocus pocus – spells – in what seemed to be a string of futile attempts to break free from the chains. Every time he finished an incantation, his azure eyes flashed gold and the chains responded, tightening and relaxing, never relinquishing their confining grip on the servant.

Arthur, for his part, was also restrained, but in an entirely different way. While Merlin was bound in chains, Arthur was bound within his own mind, his dark thoughts, haunting fears, and the deepest, scariest part of his mind that continued to chant that everyone he had trusted had turned against him. Morgana, with her allegiance with the witch, Morgause, and Merlin… Merlin had committed the ultimate betrayal. He had  _magic._

And yet, Arthur couldn't get the words Merlin had spoken in response to Morgause's questioning to leave his memory. Arthur could have tried to convince himself that it was all a ploy, a lie, just like everything Arthur had ever thought he knew about the servant, but he knew that it wasn't. Arthur was an expert at reading people – their emotions, their responses, whether they were telling the truth, skimming through it, or simply evading it.

Or so he had thought. He hadn't figured out Merlin had magic, although he  _had_ realized that something was off about the servant sometimes, but had passed it off as Merlin being an idiot. He found he couldn't think of the servant as an idiot anymore – not because Merlin was no longer an insufferable imbecile, but because "idiot" had been a name coined for Merlin almost affectionately, something that he always meant in jest, that reinforced the… whatever it was… they had between them. Friendship? No, Arthur couldn't be friends with servants. But yes, that's what he had been. It was only after the realization of this horrible betrayal that Arthur realized it – Merlin had been his closest friend.  _Friend. Idiot._ Both words tasted bitter in his mouth, and he wasn't even speaking them.

He should just leave Merlin here to fend for himself. To… die? The thought nauseated him even as a sinister little segment of his mind tried to persuade him that this was the correct course of action. Merlin or not, the boy had lied about the worst possible thing a person could lie about – sorcery.

_Merlin had magic._

_Yes,_  that nasty corner of his mind, the corner that had been influenced the most by Uther, perhaps was even a manifestation of the king himself, confirmed.  _Yes, he has betrayed you, practiced magic, thrown away your friendship, plotted against you, against Camelot…_

No. Another part of Arthur's mind fought back and he found himself surprised at his dramatic reaction to the idea that Merlin was evil. Because Merlin  _wasn't_  evil. The man's words rang through Arthur's memories again, words that had touched Arthur drastically and had re-confirmed that loyalty Merlin had. Merlin and loyalty – somehow, even when Merlin had been revealed as a sorcerer, Arthur couldn't make himself question the servant's loyalty.

Merlin, evil? There was no way in hell.

The conclusion that Merlin was  _not_  plotting his or Camelot's doom, however, did not change the fact that Merlin was also a liar. He had practiced magic and then lied about it. The very idea made Arthur seethe with anger and maybe even hurt.  _Why didn't he tell me?_

 _Well_ , he found himself thinking dryly,  _I guess that would be obvious._

That didn't change the fact that everything Arthur knew about Merlin had been thrown completely out of balance. He needed to find balance again, whether it be through helping Merlin escape and then hearing his side of the story or bringing him in chains to Uther for sentencing since the work was already half-done for him.

He felt slightly nauseous as he considered the latter option. There was no way he was going to turn Merlin in, helpless, and sentence him to a painful death without hearing his side of the story first. Which meant that he needed to grab the servant, run off somewhere safe with him, and  _demand_  to know some answers.

Simple enough plan. That is, until the giant scorpions scuttled into view. Then the plan got a hell of a lot more complicated.

They were slipping through the trees, coming at the helpless servant at all sides as Merlin wriggled and yelled more gobbledygook and panted in fright. The sight of the scorpions converging on Merlin scared him more than he was willing to admit, but before he had the chance to jump to his servant's – the  _sorcerer's_  – aid, a giant stinger missed him by inches and he realized that he was in the path of the scorpions on their way to Merlin. He had an advantage, though – he had a sword, a way to defend himself.

He glanced at Merlin, who had just sent a nearby scorpion or two flying with a couple of words and assumed Merlin could defend his own while Arthur tried to clear a path through the devils to his side. He stood up, pulled his sword, and alerted Merlin to his presence – and Merlin's face grew paler than Arthur had thought possible. He almost laughed at the terrified expression on Merlin's face but realized that now was not the time and that he was still  _very_  angry, so if he laughed, he'd probably completely break down and they couldn't afford that.

He yelled at Merlin, who was staring at him, dumbstruck, "What do you think you're doing? Keep fending them off, I'm coming!"

Merlin's eyes grew wide as he realized Arthur had just commanded him to do magic and Arthur could hardly believe it himself. He turned to battle with several scorpions, slashing, dodging, and hacking like mad. He heard Merlin begin another spell and gritted his teeth – and then everything seemed to implode as Merlin was abruptly cut off with a yell. Arthur's eyes squeezed shut for a fraction of a second as he prayed to whoever was listening that this wasn't like it sounded.

He chopped off the tails of three scorpions as he spun in clean arc, effectively causing them to writhe on the ground in pain and making several others back away, not wanting the same fate to befall them. The monsters that still advanced did so much more slowly and cautiously and Arthur knew that he had bought them some time – although how much, he couldn't say.

The sight that greeted him when he turned to face Merlin would haunt him for as long as he lived. His breath caught in his throat and his stomach churned violently at the image of Merlin, chained up, face scrunched up in agony, doubled over upon himself in pain, tears threatening to spill over from the excruciating torment. It was obvious that he had been stung. Hoping beyond all reason that the stingers were not venomous even though he knew deep in his gut that they were, Arthur let out an enraged shout at the heavens, the idea of Merlin – selfless, loyal, lying, magical, clumsy, deceiving Merlin – being in such pain causing him to lose all coherent thought. A small part of his brain, the Uther part, told him he should be rejoicing because Merlin was a sorcerer.

Well, maybe he was. But he was also  _Merlin_  and Merlin wasn't evil.

Arthur plowed forward, stooping, and his shoulder dug into Merlin's gut as he picked up the servant at a run with one arm, his head upside down behind Arthur and legs dangling at the front. His hand was holding tight to Merlin's back and he cringed as something wet and warm seeped through Merlin's shirt and jacket and onto the prince's shaking hands. Arthur forced the morbid possibilities of what was going to happen next out of his mind and ran through the gap in the scorpions, charging forward at full pace, Merlin's limp body thrown over his shoulder like a sack of vegetables.

He didn't know how far or long he ran but when he finally stopped, he was deeper into the Darkling Woods in a small clearing with a little stream running through it, cackling merrily, completely oblivious to his plight. He knew the woods like the back of his hand and even though he couldn't place exactly where they were at this moment in time, he knew he'd be able to find his way back easily enough when the time came. Whether or not he would be finding his way back alone or with Merlin in tow still remained to be seen.

With the thought of the servant, the  _sorcerer_ , the friend, the betrayer, Arthur dropped to his knees and lowered Merlin gently to the ground. He was surprised to see that Merlin was still conscious, but barely. His eyes were hazed over with pain and his face almost lax, forehead wrinkled in the hurt and confusion. He was still chained tightly, arms bound to his sides and legs chained together at the thighs. His breathing was labored and sweat beaded his pale brow. Arthur hesitantly reached out, almost as if afraid to make contact with Merlin now that he knew about his magic, and instantly recoiled at the heat from his fever. He knew then that the sting had most definitely been poisoned.

Merlin groaned slightly and Arthur turned to look at him, although not directly in the eyes – he tried to convince himself it was because he was afraid they'd be gold again, but in actuality the prospect of Merlin's magic and glowing eyes was less daunting than having to look him in the eyes and know that he had  _lied_  to his master. He swallowed heavily. "Merlin, are you okay?"

 _That was a stupid question_ , he griped to himself.

Merlin let out a small chuckle that ended in a painful wheeze and Arthur found his heart constricting in fear. Whatever Merlin had done, whatever he had hidden and lied about, he did  _not_  deserve to die a slow and painful death. Arthur forced himself to meet Merlin's gaze and was astonished at the unwavering guilt and devotion permeating the intense gaze. This, however, was not chilling or threatening like it had been when he had been glaring at Morgause, but seemed to emanate warmth, offering friendship even if Arthur decided he was going to reject it.

When Merlin spoke, his voice was jerky, laced with pain, and thick. "I… s'ry…"

Arthur closed his eyes and tried to gain control over his composure. There would be more time for this later.  _If_  Merlin lived. Merlin seemed to have realized the same thing and was determined to say what he wanted to say  _now_  in case he died and wasn't able to finish.

"I… should… tol' you."

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, now isn't the time. We have to find a way to heal you."

Merlin let out a sad smile. "Not… gon' work… Serket's deadly…" He pressed on. "Didn' choose t'learn magic in Cam'lot, swear… born wif'it… had t'protect… you… only for… good…" He let out a pitiful cough. Desperation filled the prince to the core.

Arthur tried to find meaning behind the slurred, jumbled mess, but was sure he had interpreted wrong. Merlin was saying that he hadn't chosen magic, that he was  _born_  with it? But that… that didn't make sense. And what was this about  _protecting_ Arthur? Maybe Merlin was delirious.

"Merlin, I said, now's not the time. We have to make you better."

Merlin groaned. "No point… jus' gonna die… anyway… right?"

Arthur froze. Merlin seriously thought Arthur was going to give him over to his father. After all they'd been through together?  _Hey,_  he reminded himself,  _you're not even sure if you're going to hand him in yet._ This was true, although Arthur couldn't honestly picture himself sentencing his manservant to a fiery death, no matter how deep the hurt cut that he had magic and hadn't told his master about it.

Merlin's breathing got faster as he tried to work through the poison and not succumb to unconsciousness. "What're… you… gon' do w'me?" His speech just kept getting more slurred.

Arthur shook his head slowly . "I don't know. But I'm not going to do anything until I hear the truth."

"Well," Merlin began blearily, eyes drooping even more, but Arthur cut him off.

"Not now, Merlin! When you're healed."

"No… way…"

Arthur bit his lip. He was beginning to get desperate; he could not –  _would_  not – just sit here and watch Merlin fade away. This was too much like the time when Merlin had drunk the poisoned wine…

The wine. Merlin had drunk poison for Arthur. If he had any ill-intent toward Arthur or any small shreds of darkness in him, he wouldn't have risked his own life for Arthur's. He had intended to  _die_ for Arthur. And Arthur knew that his mind had been made up for him about whether Merlin lived or died. The question of banishment or keeping and hiding Merlin still hung in the air because he was still upset that Merlin had hidden this from him – this is what it all boiled down to, trust, he realized.

He held Merlin steady and demanded, "I am  _not_  going to kill you, Merlin, and I am not going to let you die. You have a lot of explaining to do so I don't want you taking a permanent vacation to Avalon just yet."

The corner of Merlin's mouth turned up. "Vacation? Whassat s'posed to be?"

Arthur couldn't help but grin. And then Merlin started shaking and he knew time was running out. "Merlin, Merlin, listen to me – is there anything –  _anything_  – you can do to heal yourself? Anything at all? Magic, sorcery, I don't really care right now, anything!" He was surprised to find that he truly meant it.

Merlin's eyes widened. "'N'thing?"

Arthur swallowed heavily, realizing that he spoke treason. Then he looked at his chained up and dying servant and knew he didn't have a choice. "Anything. Just do it."

Merlin smiled wanly through the sheen of sweat on his face and opened his mouth. What came out were not words, per say, but a string of growls and roars that formed some kind of spell. The raw power contained in just those words alone struck a chord of terror and awe in Arthur and he found himself backing away from the sorcerer.

And then it was over as soon as it began. Merlin flopped back down to the ground, chains clinking, barely conscious. Moving over to his side once more, Arthur looked at the wound behind the shiny silver chains and saw no difference. It was still red, bleeding profusely, and oozing some sort of yellowish pus. "It didn't work," he accused, beginning to panic.

Merlin mumbled, "T'will."

"Oh." He glanced at Merlin's unchanging back. "When?"

"Dunno… depends on… how far away… he is…"

Arthur's brow wrinkled in confusion. The fever was obviously setting in. "You're not making any sense, Merlin." He paused. "What did you do?"

Merlin didn't even open his eyes. It looked like he was too weary to do even that. A sad touch to his weak and fading voice, he answered, "Called th' Great Dragon."

Arthur felt his mind buzz frantically again. "I killed it." He looked at Merlin's ashen, almost amused face. "I  _didn't_  kill it?" A beat. "How can you call it?"

Merlin peeped his eyes open once more and gazed at Arthur only mournfully. "'M the las' dragon lord," he mumbled.

Stunned, Arthur only managed to squeak out, "Of  _course_  you are." Sarcasm was the easiest way to deal with Merlin. All the while, Arthur was trying to keep his head from spinning too much. How many more secrets did Merlin have? What was next, he thought ruefully, Merlin with an alternative identity? No, he decided, even  _that_  was too farfetched.

Merlin let out a short laugh before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his whole body went limp. Arthur let out a surprised yell and tried to rouse the servant but to no avail. He pulled Merlin closer, mindful of the chains (he knew he wouldn't be able to get them undone because they were reinforced with magic; he could only hope this dragon would get them off if he didn't decide to have a quick snack upon his arrival) and the wound and half held Merlin in his arms, almost rocking, coldness of the chains bleeding through his shirt sleeves and the warmth of blood still trickling ominously onto the front of his tunic. He found he didn't care.

Now all he could do was sit with Merlin and keep him alive… and wait for a giant magical beast that had nearly fried him once before to make an appearance – if he decided to show at all. Frowning, Arthur hoped that the dragon would respond and come heal Merlin as well as not eat them. He sighed, glancing down at Merlin's pain-ridden, stark-pale face and lamented about how he could have ever thought that Merlin was evil.

Still, he  _had_  lied and done the most banned thing in Camelot, which meant that there would be consequences to pay – for both of them. Although Arthur found himself wondering if they were suffering through the consequences together right now.

"Come on, Merlin," he coaxed softly. "Don't give up on me now."

Merlin didn't respond and Arthur fell silent.

And waited. Again. He had done a lot of that lately – but this time, he was waiting with a dying Merlin in his arms. With each moment he waited, the less moments of life Merlin had to live.

The worst kind of waiting there was.


	4. The Fourth Revelation

The longer Arthur waited for the dragon to make an appearance, the more paranoid he became. Every gust of wind was the far-off beat of the beast's wings. Every snap of a twig was the crushing of bones in the great lizard's maw. He could almost see the giant monster swooping from the sky, fire rushing in great puffs as it sought to roast him and Merlin.

_Merlin._

Merlin had said he was the last dragon lord and Arthur still hadn't reconciled himself to that revelation as it was hard to fathom how much power his klutzy manservant apparently held within him. It was hard to swallow and definitely a bit frightening.

Arthur's eyes travelled down to the servant in his arms and thought his heart was going to break. It had been about an hour or so since Merlin had called to the dragon and there was still no sign of it. Part of Arthur was relieved that it hadn't arrived yet. It wasn't that he was scared – of course not; he _never_  got scared – but the idea of facing the dragon again wasn't appealing all the same. Another, stronger part of the prince wished that it would just hurry up and get here – he knew that Merlin didn't have much longer.

More time passed although Arthur wasn't sure how much. He did know that it was well past noon and dusk would be creeping upon them shortly. In the cool air of the afternoon Merlin's pallid face was sticky with sweat. His breathing was irregular and even in unconsciousness his face was screwed up in pain, brow puckered. Occasionally a little whimper would pass through his slightly parted lips and Arthur's resolve to remain stoic crumbled with each cry of pain.

"Ar…th…ur…" Arthur jumped violently at the unexpected reedy voice from his servant. Merlin's prone body was jerked harshly by the movement and guilt flooded Arthur as he glanced down, realizing that Merlin was still asleep, reached out hesitantly before sucking up his pride and casting out any remaining anger at the betrayal. With a slightly shaking hand, Arthur ran his fingers through Merlin's sweat-soaked hair, hoping that the gesture would be at least a bit comforting, if not soothing. Merlin had tried to say Arthur's name in his fevered stupor and the prince didn't want him to think that he was alone.

His voice shaking badly, Arthur muttered, "I'm here, Merlin."

Merlin tried to shift in his sleep but the chains prevented any movement, keeping his arms held painfully tight to his sides. A little moan forced its way out of Merlin's throat and it was clear that he was beginning to panic at the restraints even in the throes of unconsciousness. Gritting his teeth, Arthur pulled Merlin a bit closer and held him more securely, mindful of the deadly wound marring his back. He had never been this close to his manservant before and it was a little awkward – especially since he was the type of person who really didn't like people touching him – but if it was the only way to help Merlin realize that he wasn't going through this hell alone, so be it.

Merlin suddenly erupted into a series of deep, grating coughs and Arthur winced as he began to stroke the servant's hair and burning forehead once more. He wished he could free Merlin from the chains that bound him. He wished he could take away the pain. Despite all that he had learned about his servant, all the hurt at his lies, it ached so much more to know that he was in this much pain, this helpless, and he could do nothing about it except sit with him on the forest floor, witness his suffering, assure him that he was not alone, and wait in the middle of a dangerous forest for an even more dangerous creature – Merlin's only hope – to make an appearance.

Arthur continued to force his own fears and doubts and feelings aside as he quietly attempted to calm the injured sorcerer, muttering jumbled soothing words under his breath, and comfortingly stroking his dark hair.  _Sorcerer and Merlin._ Two words that Arthur was still having trouble using in the same train of thought, despite the fact that he had seen the evidence himself.  _Traitor and Morgana_  were another two words Arthur loathed to place together. Although he  _knew_  that while Merlin was not evil, despite his magic, he also knew that Morgana had turned against him. Against Camelot. He felt a strange pressure in his head and behind his eyes, accompanied by a hollow ache in his throat that had nothing to do with his lack of food or drink since the previous evening. Arthur blinked his eyes rapidly, the aching growing fiercer. He was not going to give in to the emotions, the hurt. He couldn't.

It was getting harder by the second to resist the emotional agony that tore at his soul. Tears were just on the surface but Arthur was  _not_  going to give into them. He hadn't cried in what seemed like years… in actuality, though, it had only been about a year ago, when the witch Morgause had told him that his father betrayed his mother. At the thought of Morgause, anger quickly eclipsed his desperation and shoved the tears aside as he remembered what she had done to Merlin… what she was, by extension,  _still_  doing to him.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Merlin's breathing settled down and the coughing stopped. Arthur froze for a moment, his eyes riveted to Merlin's chest, praying that the fit hadn't been a predecessor to death. His keen blue eyes searched desperately for any sign of life and after a few tense moments he sighed in relief at the slight clinking of the chains coiled around Merlin's chest moving ever so slightly with his breath. He was alive.

The terrible fright over, Arthur settled back down, his thoughts turning once more to the dragon that Merlin had claimed to have summoned. It was dark now and Arthur realized with a start that he had been sitting here in the forest with a dying Merlin all day long. His stomach clenched as he thought about the army that Cenred had prepared to ride on Camelot. Sucking in a deep breath, Arthur quickly reassured himself – Cenred's kingdom was far enough away that it would be at least a two days' march. He hadn't ordered them to ride out when Morgause and Morgana had their rendezvous and that had been less than twenty-four hours ago. Camelot was in no immediate danger and he wasn't about to leave a dying, chained up Merlin alone in the middle of the woods waiting for a dragon that may or may not come. Some wild animals would smell the blood and get to him before the dragon could.

Having reassured himself that he was not abandoning his kingdom by refusing to leave Merlin alone (although he decided he would have to make up a pretty good excuse as to why he, the prince of Camelot, had gone missing for a day; his father would have been worried and furious had he been in his right mind and even so, the knights had probably decided to search for him on their own when his absence was discovered), Arthur let his thoughts drift back to the dragon that was apparently taking its time in responding to Merlin's call. He wondered fleetingly if Merlin had really been in the midst of delirium at the time and had only imagined that he was the last dragon lord. After all, it had been hours since he had yelled that jumbled nonsense to the skies and there hadn't been a sign of the being that was supposedly going to save him. A feeling of helplessness clawed darkly at Arthur's mind and weighed down his heart as his eyes wondered around the slowly darkening forest and skies for any sign that the dragon might be nearby.

He was so busy looking for the dragon that when it finally appeared in the light of the moon half an hour later, Arthur almost didn't see it until it was almost upon him. His breath hitched in his throat as his mind registered what he had been straining, hoping, and dreading to see right in front of him. The dragon was even larger than he had remembered. Perhaps this was because Arthur wasn't wearing his armor. Or maybe the dragon had grown. Then again, the rational part of his mind reasoned, this was a much smaller clearing than the last time. That could prove to be a good thing, he supposed, if the dragon decided not to help. If it came down to a battle, the beast would not have as much room to maneuver.

Forcing himself to look past the sword-like claws, armor-esque scales coating its massive body, and the great mouthful of deadly teeth, Arthur's eyes met that of the dragon as it slowly, carefully swooped down and landed on all fours in the middle of the clearing. This was the first time he had really taken the time to look into the beast's eyes without the intention of gouging them out with his sword and he was surprised to see that they were a pure, molten gold – the exact color Merlin's had turned when he had used magic. It wasn't a threatening color, but rather powerful, and dangerous, yes, but also reassuring at the same time. And they were wise.

Arthur felt his arms unconsciously tightening around his chained and wounded servant as he pulled the boy closer to him with the intention of keeping him from further harm. The dragon's eyes had moved from Arthur's face to the dying sorcerer and the grave expression housed in the giant golden orbs disturbed Arthur greatly. Voice trembling slightly, Arthur forced what he needed to say out of his mouth, hoping that somehow the creature would be able to understand him. Perhaps it already knew what needed to be done, though – the concerned gleam in its eyes showed more intelligence than Arthur had been expecting.

"Merlin needs your help," he called, hoping that the dragon could hear him from so low to the ground. Arthur wished he could stand up and have his sword handy so he wouldn't feel quite so defenseless but he was still holding Merlin's limp, poisoned body tightly against his chest and wasn't willing to let him go just yet. His servant's ragged breathing was the only noise to rent the silence after Arthur finished speaking.

Arthur stared the dragon in the eye, held on to Merlin despite the cold, hard chains digging into his skin, and waited for something to happen. Ever so slowly, the dragon lowered its head and Arthur forced himself not to back up, not to look away, not to suck in a gasp of fear. He had faced the dragon before – albeit under an entirely different set of circumstances – and he was not about to back down now. Not when so much was at stake. His whole body tensed as the dragon's enormous mouth opened and the smell of smoke and ashes wafted into Arthur's nostrils.  _This is it,_  he thought wildly.  _It's going to kill us. I've failed Merlin._ Another thought struck him and he felt sick.  _I've failed Camelot._

"The young princeling." When the words, coated in a gravelly, deep, and powerful voice came from the dragon's mouth, Arthur started. He hadn't been expecting  _that!_

He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, blue eyes wide and fixed on the dragon before him. "You… you can  _talk_!" he breathed stupidly and was shocked further when the dragon let out a small chuckle.

"Perhaps the young warlock was  _not_  mistaken when he claimed that  _he_ was the brighter side of the coin," the dragon purred before laughing softly at a joke that apparently only he understood. There was still a grave worry that shone in its – his – eyes even with the mirth at his inside joke.

Arthur, for his part, was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he was having a conversation with the same bloodthirsty monster that had tried to slaughter him and his knights less than a year ago. At the mention of the "young warlock," who he assumed was Merlin, Arthur snapped out of that train of thought and looked at the dragon desperately. "Merlin said you could help him," he said firmly. The dragon's eyes flickered onto Merlin's chained body. "Can you?"

The dragon inclined his head. "I can." Arthur breathed a sigh of relief but the dragon cut him off. "But first, princeling, tell me – you are now aware of Merlin's gifts." The intensity of the dragon's gaze almost made Arthur glance away but he held his ground and swallowed heavily. Merlin's dead weight in his arms suddenly felt even heavier at yet another reminder of all his servant had kept from him. The dragon continued. "Why do you want him to be healed?"

The question caught Arthur off-guard. It even stung a bit because he could read between the lines – he knew what the dragon was wanting to know.  _Are you making him better so you can turn him into your father?_

Anger welling up inside at the question, Arthur fumed, "Why the  _hell_  would I sit in the middle of the bloody forest until my arse is numb, holding this bloody idiot's dead weight, and allow him to call a bloody  _dragon_ to his aid with  _magic_  if I was just going to kill him?" Seething, he pressed on. "Merlin seemed to think I was going to turn him in as well. Well – I'm not. A tiny part of me might have wanted to at first, but there's no way I could do it. I don't  _want_  to turn him in, I don't  _want_ to see him die." Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he glanced down at his servant's ashen face, only vaguely aware that he had called him 'idiot' again, something he had equated with their bond. A small smile touched his face. "Whatever Merlin is, he's not evil. Apparently magic isn't all bad, because Merlin isn't." He fixed the dragon with a determined stare. "I did  _not_  sit watch over him all night just to see him die at the hands of my father.

"Why do I want him healed? I want him to live because he's  _my_  servant, he's  _my_  responsibility, and he's  _my_  – my  _friend_." Arthur surprised even himself but the confirmation of his friendship with Merlin he'd been struggling with for quite some time slipped out faster than he could censor it. His face flushed in embarrassment at the show of emotion but he didn't regret saying it – it felt good, like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He had a  _friend._  Not that Merlin should get used to Arthur saying so – the prince wasn't  _about_  to let the servant get the misconception that he was important enough to befriend the prince of Camelot, warlock or not. He couldn't go getting a big head now, could he?

The dragon seemed pleased with Arthur's outburst. In fact, his reptilian facial features actually rearranged themselves into what Arthur assumed was a smile, although the presence of the many sharp, deadly teeth that made up said smile didn't do much to reassure the prince. The terrifying grin still in place, the dragon announced in an elated voice, "The time of the Once and Future King is drawing nigh." Eyeing Arthur even more intently than before, he warned, "You have many trials ahead that you must face before you become king, Arthur Pendragon. You will have to remain strong and not let outside forces sway what  _you_  know to be right. And with your wizard beside you, you cannot fail."

Arthur really wasn't sure what the dragon was talking about but Merlin's breathing was getting even more erratic and he was terrified that the boy didn't have much time left at all. He nodded hastily before snapping, "Please – heal him!"

The dragon snorted. "Please do not entertain the idea that I would let the young warlock die. You are not the only one counting on him to stay alive." Arthur blinked, chastised and a bit confused, but was relieved to hear this all the same. The dragon's eyes were fixed on Merlin and Arthur realized what was coming next but he held tightly to Merlin anyway. "You must place the young warlock in front of me and step aside," the dragon ordered.

Arthur clung tightly to the sickly body of his friend and the chains clinked ominously at the movement. The dragon rolled his golden eyes. "I appreciate your unwillingness to let him go, but I can assure you that if you do not place your trust in me, he will be lost forever." Arthur blinked as the words sunk in. He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, not at all sure why he felt so shaky and emotional. The dragon was going to save Merlin and then they could return to Camelot and prepare for the siege. With Merlin, a powerful warlock secretly on their side, perhaps they could overcome the army with little difficulty. Arthur found it both invigorating and disconcerting that he was already referring to Merlin as a magical being with very little reaction.

Biting his lip, he forced himself to stand, still holding Merlin gently, and willed his legs – which were overcome with the strongest sensation of pins-and-needles that Arthur had ever experienced – not to give out on him. He didn't want to let go of Merlin. Although he knew that the dragon was going to save his servant, a small bit of his mind screamed that if Arthur lost physical contact with Merlin that the boy would die. He had been sitting with Merlin all day, comforting him, nursing his fever as best he could with only the servant's neckerchief soaked in the lukewarm water of the small nearby spring, and talking to him, urging him not to give up. Now he was going to break that connection and the thought unnerved him. Still, he knew it was irrational and ever so gently he lowered Merlin onto the ground, placing him on his side so that the wound wouldn't touch the ground and backed away, eyes locked on his servant as the dragon leaned its head down.

The dragon eyed his dragon lord for a moment before opening his mouth and spewing out a swirl of air. Arthur began to rush forward, not knowing what the dragon was doing to Merlin, but stopped, eyes wide, and watched as the chains wrapped around the helpless man's body were enveloped in a blinding light before they melted into nothingness. At the same time the wound on Merlin's back, which had been red, swollen, bloody, and pussy, seemed to deflate and grow smaller. When the healing stopped, it was not completely gone but looked more like a scar than anything. The dragon sat back on his haunches, looking pleased with his work, and Arthur met his eyes. "He will carry that scar forever, princeling," he informed Arthur as the prince rushed to his servant's side. "If you ever find yourself doubting the words you spoke about him today, remember this moment, this scar, and remind yourself that the young warlock has saved your life more times than you could begin to imagine. You will find that you know where his loyalties lie."

Arthur gaped at the dragon and smiled blearily as he realized that Merlin's breathing was no longer irregular although the smile faltered as he felt the heat still radiating from his skin. The dragon, noticing his concern, quickly interjected, "The Serket's poison is powerful. I have given him an enchantment that will help him heal. But it will take  _time_."

"I don't have time," Arthur insisted, his heart sinking again. "Can't you make him better now? Cenred's army is probably on its way to Camelot – he could be at our walls in a day!"

"I have done all that I can to restore Merlin back to health," the dragon informed Arthur. "But do not fear, you will have help in transporting him back to Camelot."

Arthur stayed kneeled next to the unresponsive Merlin but looked at the dragon warily. "You're not going to fly us back, are you?" he asked, the idea of riding on a dragon, no matter how helpful it had been, already making his stomach feel queasy.  _If men were meant to fly_ , he reasoned almost frantically,  _we'd have wings_.

The dragon looked quite offended as it squawked indignantly, "I am not a  _horse_ , Arthur!" Arthur raised his eyebrows and let the relief flood through him.  _No flying today…_  The dragon explained, "A search party of your knights is coming this way. I saw their torches as I flew to answer the young warlock's call. They will arrive shortly and will take you both back to Camelot."

Arthur sighed with relief. "They will be alarmed to hear of the impending attack on Camelot but we should have time to prepare."

The dragon humphed before speaking to the prince in earnest. "The battle will not just be strength against strength alone. Camelot has a traitor within its walls as you may now know, a traitor that has magic and despite being untrained, she is still dangerous."

"Morgana," Arthur growled.

"The witch," the dragon confirmed, ignoring Arthur's flinch at the title for the girl he had loved like a sister and whose betrayal tore his heart to shreds, "will have a deadly trick up her sleeves. You and the young warlock must be extra-vigilant."

Almost as if he sensed that he was being talked about, Merlin stirred on the ground fractionally and Arthur's attention was instantly on his servant. Merlin's cerulean eyes peeped open and the light of the moon was reflected in his pain-glazed pupils. When his fevered gaze landed on Arthur, he let out a weak smile. "Hey, it's the prat," he grinned weakly and Arthur huffed in mock annoyance as he internally celebrated hearing Merlin's voice again – he had been afraid that the last thing he would have heard would be a pathetic, dying whimper. Merlin's eyes painfully traveled to the dragon. He smiled wanly. "I didn't think you'd answer my call."

"Merlin," the dragon chastised almost affectionately. "I could not resist a dragon lord, even if I wanted to."

"Though it sure took you bloody long enough," Arthur growled and both the dragon and Merlin glanced at him.

"I have been far away," was the reply and Arthur rolled his eyes, not satisfied with the excuse but not wanting to push it considering that he had saved Merlin  _and_  because he was capable of turning them into a pile of ashes with one puff of his dragon-breath.

"I'm grateful," Merlin cut in, smiling weakly at his savior. "To both of you," he added, shifting his gaze to Arthur. "Thank you." He tried to sit up but his face immediately scrunched up in agony and Arthur jumped to help lower the panting young man to the ground gently. "My  _head_ ," Merlin moaned.

"Like I told the young prince – I have given you an enchantment that will help you heal… but it will take time."

Merlin looked just about as pleased as Arthur had by the news and mumbled, "But Morgause… Morgana…" He eyed Arthur warily, almost sympathetically after voicing the last name and Arthur forced himself not to react. He would deal with what happened with Morgana when the time came. For now, they needed to get back to Camelot and prepare for the danger ahead – Arthur hoped that Merlin would be healed by the time Cenred's army arrived or they would most certainly be in even graver trouble. The dragon had said that Morgana had something magical planned and Arthur didn't know what they would do if Merlin wasn't well enough to combat it.

As if reading their thoughts, the dragon assured them, "After sleeping through the night, you should be mostly healed, young warlock. Do not fear. You will be able when the time comes."

Reassured, Merlin's eyes flickered shut and Arthur watched, reinvigorated with new hope, as his servant, friend, and warlock drifted off into a painless sleep. Arthur turned to the dragon. "I know my knights are not far from here, but you must tell me – both you and Merlin spoke of all he's done to protect me. What are you talking about?" Even as he asked the question, Arthur knew – he thought back to every improbable escape he and Merlin had pulled off ever since the day that Merlin had saved him from the dagger thrown by the woman posing as Lady Helen. They had gotten out of situations unscathed that should have been impossible to do so. How many times had something happened, right in the nick of time, that saved Arthur's life? Tree branches falling, chandeliers dropping from the ceiling, spears flying out to meet someone about to kill him…? There was so much he needed to know… how many times had Merlin saved his life? The prince closed his eyes briefly as the true extent of Merlin's loyalty was made crystal clear.

The dragon's voice caused him to jerk out of his reverie and open his eyes. "I believe you know exactly what we mean, young princeling." He cocked his head. "Your knights approach shortly and I must take my leave." The dragon inclined his head in a small bow, surprising Arthur to no end. "Prince Arthur."

"Wait – I need to know more! What all has Merlin sacrificed for me? What has he done?"

The dragon began to lift into the air so he could get out of sight before the knights spotted him in the sky but quickly responded, "That, princeling, is something you should ask the young warlock about." He flew off into the night and Arthur was, for the moment, alone with his servant.

Sighing wearily, Arthur sunk down onto his haunches next to the sleeping warlock and remarked, "He's right, you know, idiot – I'm going to have a hell of a lot of questions to ask you once you get better and we save Camelot." He smiled fondly at his friend as he thought back to all he had learned. Voice hoarse with emotion even as he heard the sound of the knights beginning to slip through the underbrush toward them, Arthur remarked sincerely, "Thank you, Merlin."

He had no doubt that they were going to foil Morgause, Morgana, and Cenred's plan and save Camelot. And now Merlin wouldn't have to do it alone. Now that Arthur knew his secret, they'd be unstoppable.

With that reassuring thought, the prince of Camelot turned to face the knights that had just burst into the clearing, swords drawn, eyes wide, with shouts of "Sire!" and "What happened?" ringing through the air. He calmly got to his feet and smiled reassuringly at Sir Leon who was leading the group. He nodded at Leon and then glanced at Merlin lying on the forest floor. Leon's brow knit together in worry and Arthur found himself smiling at having knights that cared for simple - or not so simple, as far as Merlin went, although Arthur was the only one to know that - servant. Together Leon and Arthur knelt and picked up the unconscious servant and draped him carefully over the extra horse they had brought for when they found their prince. As they started off, Arthur muttered to Leon, "We need to get back to Camelot as quickly as possible - Cenred has an army marching for Camelot as we speak."

Leon's eyes widened and Arthur could tell that he and the others were bursting with questions but thankfully they had the good sense to wait until the prince was ready to talk - because frankly, Arthur had no idea what the hell his excuse was going to be this time.


	5. Epilogue

Camelot was under siege – and quickly losing ground.

When the knights had returned to Camelot with an emotionally spent and exhausted Prince Arthur and limp, bloody, unresponsive Merlin in tow, the kingdom had been on the verge of panicking. The king was sick, the prince was missing, and Camelot was vulnerable. Everyone from the noblest knight to the captain of the guards to the poorest street urchin knew this. As long as King Uther was afflicted with this strange mental illness and Prince Arthur was nowhere to be found, Camelot's enemies would use their absence (of mind and Camelot, respectively) to their advantage.

When it was confirmed that the prince was back, unharmed but tired, relief spread throughout the kingdom. Surely Arthur would be able to lead the knights in the king's absence were there an impending attack upon the citadel.

Arthur, for his part, had managed to give Sir Leon and the other knights that had found them a  _very_ skimmed over explanation for all that had happened in the past day. He didn't mention Morgana, the dragon, Merlin. He simply told the knights that he had gone a spur of the moment hunting trip (technically, it wasn't a total lie considering that he  _had_  been tracking something – Merlin) and that he had run across Morgause but had hidden, listening to her plans as she discussed them with an ally. He tried not to blanch as he indirectly referred to Morgana as an ally of Morgause.

Gaius had been shocked to see Merlin's condition and Arthur hadn't told him that he knew of Morgana's treachery or Merlin's magic. He had a very strong feeling that the old physician knew about both but he wanted to be absolutely sure before he brought up either one. The knowledge he now possessed would have to be used delicately.

After sleeping for the rest of the night and part of the day, Merlin had awoken feeling much more refreshed but Arthur had barely gotten any sleep at all – he was too busy trying to make plans for the upcoming battle. He passed Morgana a few times in the corridors and each time he avoided her gaze, too afraid to look into her gray-green eyes. Afraid of what he'd see there. He still couldn't believe it. Morgana, a traitor…

And then Merlin had barged into his father's room where Arthur was sitting by the king's side. He had been both relieved and exasperated to see his idiotic servant and sorcerer back on his feet again and being as rude as ever, but the look on Merlin's face had quelled any rising insults. He knew what this meant – Cenred's army was approaching.

"Merlin," he had said seriously as they stepped out of Uther's chambers, looking Merlin in the eyes and gripping his upper arm tightly – not because he was afraid Merlin would dart away but because he needed that connection right now, the lifeline. Camelot was on the verge of collapse and Merlin was probably the clinching point that would determine their success or failure. He  _needed_  to make sure the warlock knew just what was at stake, although he was certain that Merlin had already given it plenty of thought. But he just had to make  _sure_. "I have made the decision to trust you. I still haven't completely come to terms with everything that I've learned, but if there is one thing I am convinced of, it is that your loyalty is to Camelot."

Merlin had nodded solemnly. "My loyalty is to you," he confirmed, "and Camelot."

Arthur had dipped his head, almost overwhelmed by emotions. He wasn't sure that they were going to make it out of this alive, but they were sure going to try. He rested a hand on his friend's shoulder (funny how it was getting so much easier to refer to Merlin as his friend in his head) and said, "We have to do whatever it takes to keep Camelot away from Morgause, Cenred, and…" he hesitated.

Merlin nodded again. "Morgana. It's going to be fine, Arthur. With the two of us working together, there will be no way in hell that they'll be able to take us down."

Arthur grinned and shoved Merlin in the shoulder. "Unless you trip and ruin the whole thing."

Merlin gaped. "Hey, I resent that!" he had exclaimed, grinning. "I'm coordinated when it counts!"

Arthur had been about to ask why he felt it didn't count when he was hunting or doing chores or working for Arthur in general when the first yells of warning came from the lower town. They had nodded at each other solemnly before dashing off in the direction of the attack.

Now they were being pursued by skeleton warriors and Arthur was beginning to think that magic was involved. He glanced around, ducked under one of the skeleton's sword, and knocked its head off with his own weapon, wincing as the ever-grinning skull rolled along the cobblestoned courtyard turning black from debris and ash as it went. The body lunged forward clumsily and Arthur began to dart away. "Merlin," he muttered softly, eyes darting around. "Where's Merlin?"

His eyes suddenly landed on a skinny figure hurrying from the courtyard into the castle. "Merlin!" he yelled, needing to know what was going on. Merlin didn't answer and Arthur figured that his servant couldn't hear him over the yells and clashes of battle. He gave one last swipe to the ivory-boned body before sprinting at full speed toward the door Merlin had just went through.

* * *

"It's over, Morgana."

Morgana's head snapped around as Merlin walked into the crypts where she had been in with the staff since she had summoned the dead to walk again. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him, looking as healthy as ever. She couldn't figure out how he had gotten away and it made her blood boil every time she had thought about her enemy managing to outsmart even Morgause. What _was_ it about Merlin?

"Merlin," she sneered, eyes flashing gold as her anger bubbled to the surface. Merlin managed to dodge the tendril of fire that shot out at him, even as he lost his grip on his sword and it clattered to the ground. Hm. Interesting – she hadn't been sure what would happen, but fire was nice. She hadn't quite gotten the hang of using her magic yet – it normally just reacted with her emotions.

"Please, Morgana – if  _Morgause_  couldn't even keep me under wraps, what makes you think that _you_  can?"

Morgana swept up her sword and had its point against his throat in a matter of seconds. Merlin stood still, eyes calm as he regarded her almost sadly. "I'd really think about what you're doing, Morgana. It doesn't have to be this way – innocent people are  _dying_. Do you really want that?"

Morgana didn't answer. Instead she pushed the sword fractionally deeper, causing a trickle of blood to seep down Merlin's neck. He didn't even flinch, just stared at her stonily before moving with a speed and agility she hadn't even known he possessed, ducking, grabbing up the sword he had dropped and darted for the staff. Morgana shrieked, rushing forward with her sword raised, and was inches away from plunging it into Merlin's unprotected back when another sword blocked the killing blow.

She gasped as Arthur parried the hit, his blue eyes cold and angry. Betrayed.

She pointed a finger at Merlin as he stood over the staff, about to try and shatter it with his sword. She almost smirked, knowing that it wouldn't work. It could only be destroyed with magic – and very powerful magic, in fact, even more powerful than she herself could wield. Still, she had an opportunity to place the blame on Merlin and she was going to take advantage of it. "Merlin," she gasped, making her voice tremble. Merlin glanced over his shoulder at Arthur and Morgana at the sound of his name, the sword still poised above the staff. "He was behind this – I was trying to stop it… Please Arthur, I swear!"

Arthur shook his head sadly. "It's over, Morgana." Whipping his head around he yelled, "Merlin, _now!_ "

Morgana watched in horrified astonishment as Merlin's eyes turned a bright gold – brighter than Morgause's had ever managed, in fact – and he swung the sword at the staff, cleaving it in two. Something shattered along with the once powerful piece of wood – the magic that had brought the dead to life. She knew that the skeleton army was crumbling somewhere above them. Cenred and Morgause would draw back. They had failed.

She glared fiercely at Merlin. Merlin had  _magic._ And Arthur… well, Arthur didn't seem very surprised or disturbed by the revelation.

"Arthur—" she began, but the man who had once been her friend cut her off.

"Morgana, I don't want to hear your excuses. I know everything." He glared at her. "I can't even begin to understand why it is that you have come to hate us so much that you would try to kill us, _murder_ us, try and destroy your home. I know that Morgause is your sister, but how can you believe for one second that she cares about you more than we do? More than we have? Even now, when you tried to have father go mad, tried to have Camelot destroyed, I still care about you."

To her complete and utter astonishment, Arthur then reached forward and pulled her into a hug. She didn't return it but stood stiffly, not sure what to make of this turn of events. She nearly jumped when Arthur's voice whispered in her ear, "I'm not telling my father about you… this time. But mark my words, Morgana – I will be watching you. One false move, one toe out of line, and you _will_  regret it. Because Camelot is my home, your home – and you are  _not_  going to do anything to harm it or its inhabitants again." He pulled back, staring her in the eyes. "And you will _not_ speak of Merlin's secret to anyone in Camelot, is that clear? If my father finds out about Merlin, he will find out about you."

Morgana nodded curtly, sending a death glare Merlin's way as she passed him, mind reeling, before turning on her heel and striding out of the room, mind spinning. Arthur  _knew_. Merlin had  _magic_. Their plan was  _ruined_. She smirked as realization dawned on her – Arthur had warned her not to tell anyone in Camelot… but Morgause wasn't  _in_  Camelot, now was she?

Her sister – her  _true_  family, despite what Arthur had said – would find a way to take care of Merlin, to make him stop meddling, to turn Arthur against him, to kill him, or just  _anything_  to get him out of the way. They would enjoy every minute of getting rid of him – and then, with Camelot's secret protector out of the way, the path to Camelot would be clear once again.

* * *

Merlin could hardly believe all that had happened. Had he really followed Morgana to the forest just two days ago? It seemed like a lifetime.

Everything that had happened was so unbelievable. It was more than he had ever dared to dream – Arthur  _knew_. Arthur knew about his magic and he was prepared to trust Merlin. This in itself was astounding – it was clear that Arthur was beginning to see that magic was not just black and white. Not evil. Not good. Neutral. The one who used it was the key, and Arthur's mind was slowly being introduced to that concept.

He started as his door was flung open and he sat up from where he'd been lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Arthur stood there awkwardly in the doorway for a second before coming in and closing the door behind him. "Er… Gaius said you'd be in here."

Merlin grinned. "Guess he was right."

Arthur laughed. "Look, Merlin – I just wanted to say… thank you." Merlin was surprised. He hadn't been expecting that. "What you did back there," Arthur muttered, "you saved us all."

Merlin shrugged, suddenly a bit self-conscious, although it was rather nice to be acknowledged for his hard work by someone other than Gaius. "I told you – I'm going to protect you and Camelot, no matter what."

Arthur shuffled his feet and stared down at them like they were the most fascinating thing in the room. "Yes, well… still, it hardly seems fair that you saved us, saved Camelot, and didn't get any credit for it."

Merlin chuckled. "Well, I'm used to it by now. After all I've done to save your royal backside…"

Arthur's head snapped up and his blue eyes met Merlin's. "Ah yes," he said as if just remembering why he had decided to make this visit so late at night. "You said something about protecting me before you passed out. And the dragon acted like there were many people counting on you."

Merlin suddenly decided that  _his_  shoes were quite interesting. Arthur couldn't help but smirk. "Care to explain?"

Merlin sighed dramatically. "Care to stay up all night?"

Arthur blinked at the strange question. "What  _are_  you talking about,  _Mer_ lin?"

Merlin grinned. "It's a loooong story," he drawled a bit cheekily.

Arthur rolled his eyes and fixed Merlin with a determined glare. "Then you'd better get talking."

Merlin smiled as he began to recount everything that had happened since the day he arrived in Camelot, interrupted almost periodically by teasing remarks from his master as they bickered good-naturedly. When Merlin finally got into the meat of the story, telling about Mordred, Morgause, Nimueh, Sigan, all the battles, the sacrifices, the heartache and pain, however, the banter dissipated as Arthur was drawn into the story. He realized just how much Merlin had done for him – and resolved that he, too, would be there for that selfless idiot, no matter what.


End file.
